Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Gorgeous. Precious. Coveted.
Sofia’s life wasn’t her own. Blackmailed into a relationship with an abusive asshole, plagued by nightmares, she can’t see how she’s ever going to be free.
All she wants is to pursue her feelings for one sexy, gorgeous bodyguard.
He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted her . . .
The only problem was that she belonged to the Russian Mafia, and he knew her cousin would ever allow her to get involved with a bodyguard.
Not to mention that she already had a boyfriend.
But would Colm let that stop him from going after her?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
“Drat! This is so annoying. What was I thinking?” Sofia grumbled to herself as she stomped her way through the closed restaurant to her office.
How had she forgotten to grab her handbag?
They’d been halfway home before she’d remembered, and she’d had to get Arseni to turn around and drive her back. He was waiting just inside the door of Solynshko while she grabbed her bag.
Idiot!
She was tired after working late and her back was killing her. There were painkillers in her handbag. Hopefully they’d would take the edge off so she could sleep.
Grabbing her handbag, she headed back out. Her head was down as she searched through her purse. Where was her phone?
God. Had she left it somewhere else?
She swore she could barely remember her own name at the moment.
Suddenly, she walked smack into a wall. She barely managed to hold on to her handbag as she flew backward.
Crap!
The landing was going to be hell on her back.
But before she could land on her ass, two large hands grabbed her, pulling her back onto her feet. She stumbled slightly, feeling disorientated, but the hands held onto her waist, steadying her.
“Since when do walls have hands?” she muttered.
A low chuckle greeted her. “Well, lucky for you that this wall does since you’d have landed on your ass otherwise.”
Wait.
Now the wall was talking? This was so weird. Did someone spike her drink?
And even more strange . . . the wall had a Scottish accent.
“A Scottish wall? That’s bizarre,” she said.
The wall laughed.
Dear Lord.
Obviously, not a wall, Sofia!
“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” he murmured.
She winced, aware that she was acting like an idiot. Blinking, she stared at the man-wall in front of her. Her gaze hit a broad chest encased in a black shirt.
Um. Yum.
Then she raised her gaze up. Then up some more.
“Whoa, you’re tall,” she exclaimed.
Intelligent, Sofia. Really intelligent.
The man-wall grinned. “How big can a wall get?”
“As big as it wants, I imagine. But it seems that Scottish walls are really, really big.”
“That we are.”
Oh, dear Lord.
That double meaning made her body heat.
Was he big all over?
And how could she find out?
Easy, Sofia.
As the Princess of the Bratva, she wasn’t exactly free to be with whoever she wanted. Sacha likely wouldn’t approve of this big Scottish wall.
But, damn, dreams were free.
“You all right there? You’re looking a bit stunned.” He waved his huge hand in front of her face.
She blinked and frowned at him. “I’m not stunned. Not in the slightest.”
His grin just grew. Was there no shaking this man? “No?”
“No.”
“Hmm. What were you doing racing around with your head down? You could have hurt yourself falling over like that.”
“I wouldn’t have fallen if a giant wall hadn’t placed himself in my way.”
“Ahh, I’m giant now, am I? You shouldn’t be jealous, Squirt. If you eat your veggies, you could get this big one day.”
“Will I get that hairy too?” she asked.
He threw back his head and laughed again. “I hope not.”
She grinned. “Me too. I don’t really want to start shaving a beard each morning.”
He ran a hand over his thick beard. “You don’t like beards?”
Sofia swallowed heavily. Wow, he was gorgeous. All that red hair, which was a touch darker than his thick beard. Blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. There were tattoos over his hands and going up his neck.
How much of him was tattooed?
“Uh, no. I like beards,” she said in a husky voice. “I mean, on you. Not on me. I mean, on men. I like beards on men.”
Dear Lord.
Stop!
Please, someone, make me stop.
“Aww, so I’m not special? That’s not what my Ma used to say.”
Oh, he was special. But she didn’t think it was wise to tell him. His ego already seemed big enough.
He glanced around. “What are you doing back here, lass?”
“I forgot my handbag.” She held it up.
“You work here?”
“Actually, I own the place.”
His eyes widened and she could feel him pulling back.
Great.
Someone else who was either intimidated by Sacha or disliked him. Although, why was he here?
“And you?” she challenged since she actually had a reason to be back here.
“You’re Sofia Anisimov?” he asked, looking her up and down.
“Yes. I am. And you?”
“Colm Finlayson,” he said as the door behind him opened. The man who stepped out wasn’t one she knew well, but she knew who he was.
Rogan MacGuire.
Head of the Cavan Gang. Irish Mafia. A dangerous, handsome man.
Sofia knew that her cousin often met with other dangerous men in the back room of the restaurant. Criminals. But he tried to keep her out of the family business and away from them.
“Sofia,” Rogan said in a soft voice. “I didn’t know you were still here.”
“I’m just leaving. Arseni is waiting for me. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Finlayson.”
“Nice to meet you, too.”
Darn it. Why were the gorgeous ones always weirdos or criminals?